How to beat Slytherin, or, making Malfoy cry
by TheMistressMystery
Summary: Harry’s not at his best, but it MUST be possible to beat Slytherin at the coming Quidditchmatch… Fred and George have a brilliant plan… They make Draco cry. Twice.


How to beat Slytherin

Or, making Malfoy cry

Author: MistressMystery

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Fred'n'George/Draco, slight Fred/George

Disclaimer: No I don't own them, none of them, sadly. If I did, they would all be tied to my bed…

Warnings: Male/male sex, dubious consent, possible Twincestual situation, slight AU-situation due to the timelines. An attempt at humor.

Archive: Fanfictiondotnet, adultfanfictiondotnet, other archives on request!

Summary: Harry's not at his best, but it MUST be possible to beat Slytherin at the coming Quidditchmatch… Fred and George have a brilliant plan… They make Draco cry. Twice.

Author's notes: I've got several plotbunnies nagging me, in several fandoms. However, I'm not a great writer, I tend to get writer's block and never finish/publish a story… Considering that, this is the first Harry Potter story I ever wrote, since I tend not to start writing. That way, I can avoid the frustration of writer's block. I hope you like it, send me some feedback and maybe you'll encourage me to finish other stories and start with the other HP-plotbunnies… Also, this is the first ever threesome I ever wrote, so bear with me! Unbeta'd as of yet.

Feedback: Feedback is the juice that keeps this machine going! Pleeease! Feedback and/or flames can be sent by clicking the little cute feedback button...

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The sound of Harry sneezing quite dramatically made half the Gryffindor-table freeze. Toast, teacups, forks and such halted in mid-air, conversations stopped abruptly and everyone within hearing distance stared at the Gryffindor-seeker. Ron Weasley's face turned red, looking as if his best friend had suddenly grown antlers.

"Wot, Harry…" he mumbled through a mouthful of sausage, swallowing the half-chewed meat to finish his sentence. "…still not feeling too well?" On Harry's other side, other-best-friend Hermione Granger scratched her head.

"Really Harry, you should go see Madam Pomfrey, I'm sure she'll have something for that cold of yours." It was just a regular cold, some coughing and sneezing and a runny nose, but the Gryffindors had hoped Harry would feel better. Normally, it wouldn't have mattered, but today was different. Today, Gryffindor had it's final chance to get ahead of Ravenclaw in the Quidditch-competition. If they beat Slytherin this day, they would only have to deal with Hufflepuff to win the Cup. But if Harry wasn't feeling a hundred percent, beating Slytherin could get hard. Their seeker, Draco Malfoy, was nearly as good as Harry…

"No Hermione! What if she wants to keep me there! Then those stupid Slytherins will beat us for sure, and I can't let that happen!"

Hermione huffed and sipped her tea. "I still say your health is more important, Harry."

"'Mione, we can't let that sodding git beat us this easily!" Ron protested. As the argument went on, nobody noticed the sly look that passed between the Weasley-twins…

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Fred and George had never really needed friends. It was good to have friends, but they weren't a necessity. They had always had eachother. It wasn't a surprise to them that their relationship grew beyond brothers and beyond twins. It was like their shared one mind within two bodies, so it came natural to share their bodies as well. They had been lovers eversince the start of puberty, though hiding this from their friends and family.

After breakfast, the twins hurried out of the Great Hall, taking off to the garden outside despite the gloomy weather. They had a lot to discuss…

"So, we take him down a notch or two?" Fred started.

"That'll be fun…" George stated absently. Sometimes, odd gaps and silences fell in their conversations, as they continued their conversation mentally. It was the best way to discuss mischief.

"We'll have to do it now then, match starts in two hours." Fred mused, and George gave a resolute nod.

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Draco Malfoy didn't consider himself vain. Handsome maybe, admirable, but vain? No. His parents expected him to be spotless at all occasions, not a hair out of place, so he tried not to disappoint them. They expected a lot from their only son. Perfection at every front. Maybe that's why he was so nervous about the match against Gryffindor. It was his chance to beat Potty and show his father that he was worthy.

He'd chosen the quiet Slytherin changing rooms over the Common room, trying to concentrate on the task ahead. He had to try to stop Potter from catching the Snitch, allowing his teammates enough time to score the points they needed to get ahead of Gryffindor in the lists, then catch the Snitch. Then they only had to beat Ravenclaw next week to win the House competition! Then maybe the Gryffindorks would loose from Hufflepuff and be in third place, that would be a laugh!

He sighed quietly to himself as he sat down on the bench and pulled his expensive Italian hand-made shoes off. Better get changed into his Quidditch-gear, it would give him something to do, and maybe calm his nerves a bit. Setting his shoes neatly underneath the wooden bench, he pulled his robe off, hanging it on a hanger. As he slowly changed into his Quidditch-gear, he couldn't help but mentally list all the times he was humiliated by the Boy-Who'll-Loose-The-Upcoming-Match. Damn that bloody Potter. Without him, Draco figured, his life would be much easier…

Caught up in his mental tirade, with his Quidditch-jersey pulled only halfway over his head, Draco hardly heard the door open and close behind him. He figured his teammates had arrived early. Too early for his liking. Their arrival meant that his chance to concentrate in peace was gone. But during the first syllable of his none-too-friendly greeting, he toppled over stiff as a statue, hitting his head on the wooden bench and landing on the tiled floor with a thud.

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Fred and George's plan had one weak point, and that was capturing Malfoy. But it seemed Lady Luck was on their side. As they entered the Slytherin changing rooms, Malfoy's back was turned to them, and he had his shirt over his head. Wand in hand, the brothers gave eachother a knowing glance.

"Stupefy!" Both cried out in unison, wands pointed at the unknowing Slytherin seeker. Malfoy toppled over and fell down, stupefied.

"Well, that was easy…" Fred muttered, as George moved to Malfoy and prodded him with his foot.

"Stage one is completed! So, a book?" he asked, and Fred nodded. George muttered another spell, quickly Transfiguring Malfoy's prone body into a book. It had a black leather cover, with silver letters reading 'Draco Malfoy'. Pleased with their magics, Fred picked up the book and gently put it in his bookbag.

"Let's get out of here!" And they sped out as if Voldemort himself was chasing them.

Laughing like maniacs, the twins ran past the stands and back to the school, heading for the small entrance that led straight into the kitchens. Their flight became a race, both trying to beat the other to their destination. They flung the door wide open and without bothering to close it, raced past the house-elves, leaving them bewildered. Their race continued throughout the halls and up several staircases, until they reached a door that just appeared right in front of them.

"I won…" George panted, grinning at his equally red-faced brother.

"May be, but I've got the book!" Fred stated smugly, as he opened the door to the Room of Requirement.

"Hey, not fair!" George complained, before virtually jumping his twin. Their mouths mashed together in a fiery kiss, as hands started to roam underneath robes and shirts. Groaning, Fred gasped for breath.

"George, later! We've got less then two hours, remember?" His brother just sighed, fumbling for the doorhandle and pushing the Room's door open with his shoulder.

The Room of Requirement looked exactly like they wanted it to look. It's main feature was a giant four poster bed, standing in the middle of the room. It was also the only piece of furniture. There were some tapestries hanging on the walls, and some candles in sconces. The heavily curtained bed had a great stack of downfilled pillows on it and few soft fleece comforters, all in a stunning deep red color, matching the bed's curtains. Fred lay his bookbag on the bed and pulled out the Malfoy-book. Throwing the bag to the floor, he placed the book in the exact center of the bed, before pulling out his wand.

"Shall I do the honours?" he asked his twin. George nodded his consent and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Finite Incantatem!" With a flick of Fred's wand, the spells were lifted, and the book turned back into the Stupefied form of Draco Malfoy.

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A groan escaped Draco's lips. His head felt like it'd split in two and for a second he thought that bloody Potter had thrown him off his broom again. But when he put his hand to his head and his fingers came back sticky with drying blood, he let out a shriek that would make the Shrieking Shack proud. Sitting up with a start, Draco looked around and was surprised to see the Weasley-twins standing at the foot of the bed he was on. They were staring at him, and his surprise quickly turned to anger.

"What are –you two- doing here!" he bristled, scooting towards the edge of the bed. He quickly slid his mask of arrogance in place to cover up for the fact that couldn't remember how he'd gotten here, a fact which made Draco very, very nervous. George gave Draco a sharky grin, before casting a sly look at his sibling

"What we're doing here?" he asked, smiling at Draco before continuing. "The question is, what are YOU doing here? Shouldn't you be preparing for the Quidditchmatch?"

"That's none of your business!" Draco snapped, as he stood up and started making his way to the door. He didn't get far, for when he started to walk, Fred blocked his way to the door while George circled around Draco, taking up a position behind the Slytherin Seeker.

"Oh, I think it is…" George whispered, his face dangerously close to Malfoy's ear, who gave a shudder. Draco vaguely realised he was outnumbered, but somehow, he couldn't seem to think straight.

"I agree brother, it certainly –looks like- our business…" Fred replied as he approached Draco slowly. Draco took a step backwards, bumping into George behind him, who responded by taking hold of Draco's arms, right above his elbows. The blonde Slytherin couldn't help hissing in protest and tried to pull himself free from George's grip. It didn't do him any good. George only tightened his grip slightly, pulling Malfoy against his chest, while Fred used the opportunity to step in closer.

"Hey, w-wait, n-" Protest cut short by a deft tongue licking his left ear, Draco gasped for breath and shuddered.

"You see? Our business after all…" Fred smirked. Shaking his head, Draco mewled, sure he couldn't get away from the Weasley's and not sure he –wanted- to get away. George released Malfoy's right arm and took the liberty of running his hand up underneath Draco's quidditch-shirt, as Fred leaned forward to steal a kiss. Stopping with his mouth a hair's width away from Draco's, Fred left the decision up to the blonde. Doubt clearly readable on his face, Draco hesitantly inched forward and pressed his mouth to Fred's. Some part of him was disgusted at kissing a Weasley, but the part that really liked the experience won out.

Meanwhile, George's questing hand found a nipple and he rolled it between his fingers. Draco mewled into Fred's mouth as he did so and George couldn't help grinning. This was going even better then expected… He released Draco's other arm and let both his hands roam underneath the Slytherin Seeker's shirt. Finding his goal, he felt Draco arch into him. The blonde hissed in surprise and broke away from the kiss as George tweaked his nipples.

"A-and what exactly are you doing..?" he breathed, not sure if he wanted to know. Ofcourse, he wasn't innocent. There had been that drunken fumble with Zabini, and then there was Pansy. Though it wasn't love, he liked Pansy enough and had given her what she wanted plenty of times, but the little escapade he and Blaise had had in the Slytherin boy's showerroom had been more interesting then all his times with Pansy. Part of him knew, realised, that he was gay, but another, more Malfoy-ish part of him fought that realisation tooth and nail. And being here, in this bedroom, alone with the Weasley-twins, didn't do any good. Fred flashed him a grin, his hands sneaking around Draco's torso to cup his ass.

"What does it look like we're doing? Fred whispered, as he sank to his knees and started opening Draco's pants, earning him a shudder and a sharp intake of breath from the blonde.

"Really Malfoy, stop worrying. S'not like we'll hurt you or anything…" George told him, then proceeded to lick the back of the Slytherin's neck, tracing a pattern just below his hairline. "We're just going to…" he paused, blowing on the wet spot he'd made. "…have a little fun, that's all." Not protesting when Fred pulled down his boxers, Draco even widened his stance just a little to give the Gryffindor Beater a better access. He however closed his eyes, realising what he was about to do, and worse, with whom!

His worries were forgotten soon enough, as Fred took his hardened member in hand, making an appreciative sound, before swallowing it whole. Gratefull that George supported him, Draco leaned back, his knees shaking. It had never been like this, not with Pansy… He couldn't help moaning when George started whispering in his ear, while running a hand across his chest.

"Like that, Malfoy? It could be better… It could be a lot better… You up for it?" George asked, opening his trousers and pulling then down a bit as he spoke.

Draco was so distracted by Fred's ministrations, he hardly registering what was being said, but he nodded his consent. He had an idea what George was planning, but it didn't really matter, as long as that nice, warm, wet mouth on his cock didn't go away…

Flashing a grin at his twin, who winked back, George pulled his wand from his backpocket, and quickly cast a lubricating spell on Draco, who squeaked in surprise. Quite a usefull little spell it was, and such a timesaver, too! As George checked to see if the spell had done it's job, Draco nervously leaned forward a bit. Fred took that as a sign and doubled his efforts and soon the Slytherin forgot his nerves.

"This may be a little uncomfortable at first, Draco." George announced, as he slowly slid a finger into Draco's well lubricated hole. Malfoy gasped and rose on his toes to escape the weird sensation. It didn't do him any good… George's hand just followed his movement, staying inside of his body. He moved it gently, before pulling out and adding a second finger.

"-Ah-really-I…" Draco panted, squirming a bit, not too sure about the new development. But a twist of George's hand made him gasp in surprised shock. "Dothatagain!" he gasped. Again, George ghosted his fingers across that spot, making Draco see stars. Fred couldn't help pulling away from Malfoy's member and grin up at his brother. After a few scissoring moves from George's fingers, a third finger was added, making Malfoy squirm like a worm on a hook.

"Now Malfoy, tell us what you want…" Fred spoke, a devious grin plastered on his face, seeing the look in the Slytherin's eyes as his twin added the third finger. A gasp was all that came out of Draco, but then, George stopped moving. Again, Fred asked him what he wanted, seeing the want and arrogance battling it out on Malfoy's face.

"Damnit, you Weasels! Come on!" Draco bristled, but Fred just waved his finger in the air, mocking the Slytherin Seeker.

"Say it."

"YOU!" Draco screeched in frustration, and was rewarded by the hot mouth returning to his organ, as George quickly replaced his fingers with his cock. A little hiss escaped Draco.

"That-hurts-you-son-of-aaaAH!" Hissed insult merged into a moan as George started moving, ever so gently sliding in and out of the well stretched passage. It took the two brothers and their double assault just a few moments before Draco came, crying out his pleasure, shooting his load into Fred's mouth, who discreetly swallowed it.

Draco sagged against George, who couldn't help but following Draco's lead, with one last shove, he came deep into Draco's body, before he let himself slip out. Fred gently licked the last traces of semen from Draco's cock, before George lifted the exhausted Slytherin Seeker gently and placed him on the bed. He smiled at his twin.

"Looks like you got a little problem there…" he spoke, pointing at the obvious bulge in Fred's trousers. "Shall I fix that for you?" Fred wasted no time and jumped his brother, both of them landing on the bed, next to the sleepy Slytherin.

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Something poked him in the ribs. Snarling, Draco turned around sleepily. Again, he was poked, and he sat up with a start. This wasn't his room… and realisation dawned on him…

"Hey Malfoy, shouldn't you be playing Quidditch?"

He whipped around and saw the two Weasleytwins, smiling at him. They were both wearing their immaculate Quidditch-robes, brooms in hand. He looked down at himself as saw his rumpled shirt, opened trousers and bare feet. Seeing as he had no time to argue, he just jumped from the bed, fastened his trousers and raced out of the room like the Devil himself was chasing him.

Running down the hallways, he made his way to the Slytherin changing rooms as fast as he could. The rest of his team stared at him, but nobody dared to ask why he was so late. Mentally cursing himself, Draco pulled on his boots as fast as he could and grabbed his broom, just in time to follow his team out onto the Quidditch pitch.

The Gryffindors were entering the pitch on the other side of the field, and both teams approached Madam Hooch. She told them to play fair, and released the balls. The snitch zoomed out of their sight as breakneck speed, and the teams kicked off from the ground.

But as soon as Draco mounted his broom, he jumped off again. "Merlin! That's interesting!" Up in the air, the Weasley-twins leered at him. Grinding his teeth, he mounted his broom again and flew off, shifting uncomfortably.

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The entire game was Hell for the Slytherin Seeker. He had a hard time staying on his broom and the Weasleys didn't stop leering at him, making comments the entire game. It distracted him so much that he reacted just a fraction too late when he saw Harry arch upwards sharply all of a sudden. Something golden glinted just a few meters above Harry. Giving it all he had, Draco followed his rival, shooting upwards as fast as he could, but he was too late… The Gryffindor's hand closed around the tiny winged ball, and he gave a triumphant shout of victory. The game was over…

Draco figured he's spent about half an hour in the shower, crying. His fingers were all wrinkly and his eyes were all red. Their captain had chewed him out, and even Professor Snape had given him a reprimand. It was all his fault, and he knew it… He slowly pulled his clothes on, stalling as much as he could. He dreaded going into the Slytherin Common Room, where he knew people were waiting for him. Tying his shoelaces, he sighed and figured he'd better go face the inevitable.

He left the changing room and made his way back to the castle. But when he walked past the stands, two sets of hands grabbed him and pulled him into the gloomy area underneath the stands. Two familiar red heads appeared in his sight, grinning.

"Aw, what's the matter, Malfoy?"

"Been crying?"

"We'll make it all better…"

Draco couldn't help smiling... Maybe something good came from losing, this time.

The End.

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